night vision
for Nathan Brown, Poet Laureate of the Apocalypse, on his birthday
the moon was up
before darkness
fell round and bright
like the Pixar lamp
that turns and looks
then it made room
for a night-sky filled
with tiny desk lamps
casting light for one
tired poet and another
or maybe they are
street lamps on milky
ways of metaphors
not to chase the dark
away but to dance
most of those lights
died out long ago
but the news has
not reached us yet
more grief to come
so the poets work
late into the night
to find the words
the names of what
has been lost
Peace,
Milton
